


Long Way Home

by PixeledAtom



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dragon Age: Inquisition - Freeform, Dragon Age: Inquisition Spoilers, F/M, Here Lies the Abyss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-01-02
Packaged: 2018-03-04 17:56:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3077819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PixeledAtom/pseuds/PixeledAtom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We'll be together again soon. Forever this time."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Long Way Home

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by "Forever (feat. Casey Williams)" by Jeff Williams
> 
> (( listen to the song here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uZyGGO-2Ee4 ))

Her hood covered most of her face but I saw her eyes. They were important and they were sullen. They were green but it hasn't been green for a long time now, they've been much darker since the moment she was burdened with the responsibility of deciding. Old. They were quite old, they had to be or many wouldn't have had the chance to get older. Her green eyes has seen red, black, and white. Death, sadness, happiness; lots of things that moulded life. But her mouth, chapped and quivering, still smiling. Lies. Her mouth had to be lying because I've seen her eyes. She was downing her fifth mug of ale, replenishing the lies that her mouth has spoken. Her eyes met mine as she gestured for another round. I served her one, full to the brim and the foam almost spilling, just how she would've liked it. She gave me a smile; it was brief but true, until it lied again. I moved closer to her, serving the other customers nearby. They were next to her, but she was far away from them. She was in a different time, a different place, happier times; they were the lies that kept her going. I waited for her to be ready. 

Her attention turned towards me with a smile curving her lips, a smirk, and it was true. She unhooded herself and revealed her ageing face, wrinkles here and there, showing her long greying hair. They weren't always like that, short, free, and aflame; it could've stayed that way. But the grey, too much grey. It took over when she lost her most precious treasure; she felt like she lost her purpose then, her calling. But I can't assume too much, a lot of people already assumed too much of her and none of it was real; what I think may not be true as well. I need to listen more.

"Hey you there, boy with the funny hat," she had a smile on her again, I wasn't sure if it was real or not this time, but there was hurting. She raised the mug at me and continued, "Another one," I nodded and went to the kegs to fill it up for her.

"It's a bit hot in here, kid, don't you think? Why are you wearing that silly hat?"

"I like hats," I reasoned out.

Her eyebrows arched and her mouth briefly pouted then figured she'd just leave the matter alone. I served her her drink and leaned against the counter, watching over her and over everyone else.

"Celebrating alone?" I asked.

She showed me her smile again with a bit of a chuckle this time, "You're there, kid," she said, "But not the happy kind of celebration," she maintained her smile, but her eyes and her thoughts say otherwise.  

"What calls for an unhappy celebration then?" I asked.

"Death," she smirked, knowing she got my attention. I stayed silent, waiting for her to tell me more.

"Don't worry, these frail old hands aren't guilty with this one," she chuckled then her face fell and mumbled, "I could never have allowed it,"

"Just the one?" I asked her jokingly. Varric said humour helps people sometimes.

"Just the one," she confirmed and smiled.

"I see. You don't seem frail anyway," I gestured towards her mug and said, "That's your seventh, most of the people here can only handle four or five,"

"I strive to beat an old friend of mine who didn't let her age or condition to stop her from making some noise," she stopped and smiled.

Her eyes were distant, they were remembering. An old friend. A mother and a friend. She never had a family, neither did the woman before me. They stuck together like one, her other friends and she. Through struggles and doubts they were one, they had to be in a world being forced to be torn asunder.

"She would've been proud of you, she always was, even when she was in doubt," I nonchalantly spat out words I thought she needed to hear. Sometimes I forget my manners.

"What did you just say?" she looked at me in confusion and with questioning eyes.

"I said your friend would've been proud of you on your seventh mug of ale,"

"Ah," I was relieved that she wasn't listening; she was talking after all, she needs to listen to herself.

 It was silent again. When she was silent, everything else inside her was louder, she had to. The silence doesn't give her peace, only heartaches. 

"So that death you were talking about," I spoke up, trying to engage her in a conversation.

I'm still not good at talking to people, especially when they seem uninterested in having a conversation. But their minds usually want to, and I'd find myself speaking to them about their thoughts instead. Then I have to make them forget just like I used to do. As much as possible I didn't want to, humans don't do things like that.

"Oh that?" she raised an eyebrow at me and looked at me straight in the eyes.

She was looking, searching for something, she was considering telling me. I wanted to show her I was willing to listen, but I think I showed her too much. She figured I would care, she didn't want that. Not again.

"Nah, wouldn't want to keep you away from your work," she told me and placed her attention back to her ale.

"Look around," I crossed my arms and leaned towards the counter that separated us and rested my arms on its surface. "I think it's just you and me tonight,"

She turned around and scanned the area. Lots of good men and women, half-awake and half-asleep. By their tables minding their own business, sorting their lives out, finding peace. No one listens to drunkards, people think they're worthless, already waste. But I let them stay and wait for them to speak, then I'd listen. Sometimes I do not need to say anything else, they just needed a listening ear, and they go back home and they never come back; I've never served the same customer twice. 

"Maybe you should start charging rent," she jested.

"They've been through enough, I wouldn't want to take away too much of their coin too,"

She chuckled and told me, "You've got to be the most generous barman I've ever met,"

"If I force the coin to come to me, they won't come; no one wants to be taken by force."

"And perhaps the oddest," she took a swig from her mug. Her mouth wasn't quivering much anymore, and her lips, more relaxed.

"My friends thought so too," I told her.

The door creaked open, and a young woman, a bit younger than my...form right now, entered. Her hair was long and full of life and as dark as night. It used to be duller, less lively. But when she heard the music and started to play, she finally forgot and she was happier. She works for the tavern as a bard and everyone loved listening to her. Sometimes I am not needed to listen or talk, just hearing her songs made the people clear their minds. I wonder sometimes if she was a kind of spirit, or a spirit's vessel at least, either way her voice was extraordinary. I'm happy to have met her.

"Evening, boss," she greeted cheerfully as she strode towards us.

"You're late again, Casey," I told her.

"I figured I'd come to a tavern in this state again anyway," she rested one arm on the counter and looked around the tavern, "At this rate you should turn your tavern into a refugee camp, or an inn at least,"

"That's what I told him," the old woman chimed in.

"Your voice calms them," I explained. "They're tired and asleep, not dead, even the dead can still hear you,"

"Does he usually talk like this?" the old woman asked with a tinge of fascination and a bit of uneasiness in her tone. 

"All the time," Casey giggled. "But he's alright, if a little bit weird. Pays us better too, unlike the lout I used to work for and let me tell you--"

"Casey," I interrupted her. "Perhaps you should let our customer hear your voice."

"Oh, I better get right to work then,"

Casey smiled at us before she left and walked towards her place at the tavern. Her lute waited for her, leaning against a stand by the small stage I had made for her. Her place was in the heart of the tavern where everyone can hear her voice. I wanted everyone to hear her voice. She didn't always have a voice of her own. Shut down, ignored, and wasted. She has a good voice, had good words to say too. Now she's forgotten the silence and embraced the music. It's good for her, good for everyone though she may not realise it. She didn't have to know about the power of her voice, it makes her words more alive, more genuine.

Her lithe fingers plucked her lute's strings as she hummed her melody. Her song was calming, soothing, like a mother's lullaby. I can feel everyone feeling at peace except for one. I turned my attention back to the old woman. She was hearing a different song. The melody shook her, awakened her thoughts. I feel her pain seeping through but she was made of iron, she wouldn't let them pass, she wouldn't let them be known. She thinks it would make her vulnerable, susceptible to more pain. But she's keeping it all in, lying dormant, until it implodes.

> _You and I were in a dream  
> _ _You'd follow close wherever I'd lead_
> 
> _My steps you'd echo one and all  
> _ _You'd catch me safe if ever I'd fall_

She drank from her mug and halved the ale she had. Her eyes closed through gritted teeth and every breath she let go carried bits of her pain. She was remembering. Of the days long gone, and the roads that were too rocky to traverse. It was a struggle but she was happier then. Happiest with him. Where she goes, he followed. What she said, he agreed. Then one day he stopped agreeing, stopped following. She refused to believe that this was the future she had. She went with the current but she could only look back. 

"This death you spoke of," I broke the silence, "You miss the life this person had, don't you?"

She chuckled at what I said and replied, "Looking for a good ol' tavern story, I see."

"That's why I started this tavern in the first place," I admitted. "Listening to people is the only thing better than reading books."

Her eyes glinted in amusement then she looked down at her mug. A smile was forming on her face, but she was still hesitant. I retracted my arms from the counter and grabbed a stool from the side to sit on. I fiddled with my hands and sat patiently waiting for her to speak up.

> _Your hand in mine we walked along  
> _ _No hill too high, no road was too long_
> 
> _To stay with you, my only dream_   
>  _To share your life, whatever it mean_

"You're right, I do miss him," she gently thumbed the side of her mug, her eyes growing distant. She was remembering again, remembering him, it was the only way she could see him again. 

"We didn't think we could face everything the world hurled at us, but we would've faced it head-on anyway," her voice was more delicate now, dispelling her tough exterior from earlier. I've seen some of her memories and heard stories about her. A sword in her left hand and magic spewing out of the other, she was a force to be reckoned with; only he could make her seem gentle.

"We didn't have a future, it'd be too heartbreaking to think of such in our line of work, but we decided that staying together in the present was good enough for the both of us."

"I couldn't see my life without him," her voice faltered a little as she spoke of him so fondly, "Nor did anyone else, I think, but here we are," she tried to smile, but there was no point in lying. 

> _I knew you'd have to go away_   
>  _My love for you could not help you stay_
> 
> _You drifted off, day by day_   
>  _I cherished every breath that remained_

"It was my fault he died," her tone was shaky, her thoughts intense. Images passed by rapidly, leafing through possibilities, the 'what ifs', the regrets.

"I constantly endangered his life, but I was always there to pull him out of it," she attempted another smile but she was remembering again; it made her happy but it also hurts her.

"Now I've lost him, I wasn't there, and I lost him," it was too much to think about, too much hurting to remember. They've only parted ways once. Just once. She tried to cry, but there was too much anger to let out first. 

"I wish I could've gone with him, to fight, then maybe..."

> _In my arms, close to me_   
>  _Your body broke, your soul was set free_
> 
> _You left this world, my treasured friend_   
>  _The chapter closed, but love has no end_

"He would've died either way, for you, or you for him,"

"I know," she smiled then she laughed though she nearly let go of her tears. "We were told we're idiots like that."

"I just wish he didn't die alone," her face fell, looking sullen.

She keeps coming back to the memory that hurts her the most. Alone in the dark, battered, and bruised. No traces on her skin, but everywhere on her heart. Her mind tells her it's what she deserved. My hands twitched.

"But he didn't die alone," I assured her. "You were there with him, in his heart."

She sighed and another hollow smile followed, "I appreciate your uplifting words but I've heard those words before from others."

"But it's true, I was there, I heard your voice, I saw your face, I saw your form," "It was the clearest memory I've ever seen anyone have of another person, it was like it was really you in the Fade,"

"How could--"

> _Farewell my angel_   
>  _You were with me always_

"You don't have to blame yourself," my hand moved to grab hers. They were cold, rough, and tired. "You were always with him in his heart. Always."

I held on to her tightly, but not too much that I'd hurt her; she was tough, but it's just a bluff. She was stunned and surprised by my actions, to say the least. She was confused, but she didn't pull away either. I felt her firm hand let loose. Warmer. She felt warmer inside again. 

"Is he still there in yours?" I asked. Her fingers curled, holding on to my hand. Softer and warmer, my hands felt familiar to her now, she was more comfortable. Then finally she let her tears go. 

"He never left," she told me.

"The two of you were never apart,"

I was confident with the last words I gave her and she felt confident with her thoughts again too. I've helped her believe, the rest is up to her now. She didn't need me anymore. My voice was gone, and so were my words but in her memory remained the thoughts and emotions I helped her find. 

"What...happened?" she pressed a finger on the trail of tears on her face. She noticed I was looking at her. Embarrassed and confused, she quickly wiped away her tears with the sleeve of her cloak.

"You were talking about your friend," I answered.

"Oh," she turned her attention away from me.

She was trying to remember again this time it wasn't of the things that used to hurt her, no, her face was different this time. She held an expression that I've seen many times before, it happens when I do _that_. She placed her hand over her heart and felt a rush surging from her chest. She couldn't understand what was happening but she was certain she could feel it. She took a deep breath and she wasn't hurting as much anymore but there were still some pain left. I didn't have the power to do anything about it; that part belonged to him and only he could've made a difference. 

"I guess it was good for me to talk about it with someone," her hand was still pressed against her chest since the sensation was stronger there. "Thank you for listening, barman."

"Thank you for letting me listen," I replied. She smiled at me then she stood up from her seat. She paid me a few silvers and bid me a wordless goodbye. As she made her way to the door, she glanced at Casey who was still singing her song. Casey met with the woman's eyes and smiled at her, bidding her a goodbye without missing a note.

> _Just close your eyes now  
> _ _Next time we meet it's forever_

The door creaked open but her hands lingered on the handle for a moment before she turned around to tell me,

"We'll be together again soon. Forever this time."

And then she was gone and the door closed behind her. She was a hero, but the world didn't need her anymore and nothing in the world could ever make her stay. She still breathes but she was already dead, most heroes often are. She died with him. I knew that once her heart stops, only then could she be happy again. She knew that too.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm full of hurt. I need Cole right now. I haven't finished the game yet or his companion quests, but I hope I gave my depiction of Cole justice. I just needed to write this after that dreaded mission and I refuse to continue with the game without writing this down. I haven't even written anything in months, I'm surprised I've written this much and actually had the push to finish this.


End file.
